[ah.... well - he'll offer his hand over. it's the right hand he used to slam into fukuda's face, so the cactus needles are a little broken or embedded a bit worse. ow!]
I'm-- I'm a full of shit hypocrite, you know. I say out one side of my mouth that people's pasts don't matter, the shitty thing they've done. And then out the other I say, well, he did occasionally drill people's heads open. So maybe I do care a little.
[his hand!! it's fine, he's dealt with worse than this at least.]
.... if someone's changed, or wants to change, it's easy to want to overlook their past. If they just want to live a normal life, not hurting anybody else. 'cause I think... a lot of the time, people do bad stuff just because they felt like they had to.
But he said he wanted to encourage more holes from the day he got here. Offered to drill a hole in my eye.
So I also wanna say fuck that guy, even if he asked me to keep that shit a secret. How could I?
[He pauses while he stops to consider this, just holding one of the little cactus needles.]
True enough. It is simply making a new choice, day by day.
[Though, perhaps a bit of an ominous statement.
The memory is clear and bright, in the way that most terrifying experiences are, when you think them over.
You’ve just descended the stairs to the speakeasy of this Gentleman you’ve heard so much about, when a tabaxi turns to your group. She starts:
“Halt friends, I do not r— Lucien?” Her eyes widen in shock, but you still don’t know who she is, you’re racking your memory, but the name
The name makes you feel ill, all of a sudden, an itch at the back of your skull. There’s no time to consider it.
“It has been too long, two ye–”
“Far too long!”
“Two years!” She laughs, bright, hands still gripping your shoulders on either side, tightly, like an old, old friend. “Look at you! You grew out your hair! And you are covered in tattoos!”
There’s something in her expression that seems confused about this, as her eyes flit to your hands, your neck.
“We’ll catch up, we need a table, we need drinks for me and my compatriots.”
“Of course, you– these are your friends now?” She looks over your group, appraising, but then goes to do as you’ve asked. Drinks and a table.
You now get a better look up at the top, some skulking individuals with long dark cloaks and dark armor, carrying what looks almost like a heavy crossbow, but it’s a long, metal rod. You’ve only seen them in use here and there. A recently emerging technology that has been largely guarded within use of the empire itself.
The second she turns, you give Fjord - a green, half-orcish man, a little pat on the back and hiss a whisper at him. 
“I’m sorry, this is my nightmare, please just go with it? It’s Lucien.”
He simply looks a bit baffled in return. The tabaxi returns to the table, reaching her hands out for yours.
“Oh, too long.” She starts quickly, sitting up straighter, then her face suddenly turns apologetic. You see all the faces of your friends, twisted in confusion. They aren’t even trying to hide it.
“Luci— Nonagon. I apologize for using your old name. Nonagon, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Who can keep track these days? Again, a long story.” You manage to croak out. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just looks concerned.
“Nonagon, what happened? We watched you die.”
She looks expectant. As do the rest of them at the table. Jester, Fjord, Nott, Caleb, Beau. All of their eyes are trained on you. They all await your answer.
“I’m sorry, it— I think it all went a bit fuzzy at the end there. Won’t you remind me?”
The tabaxi looks almost stricken, but she recovers. Casting a glance at the others at the table, and then,
“I don’t trust these people, Nonagon, but—
If you trust them, then I trust you. You gave us a speech. We had a fine meal. We all got ready there in the forest. . . She said it would be hard for us to tell whether or not it worked at first, but we went and checked, and you were not breathing. For a good hour, you were not breathing and you had gone cold. We knew then that-- that we had lost you. We checked, and I'm very attuned to vitals, as you know. There was no heartbeat. So we waited longer. The sun rose, and nothing. So, as you told us, if anything were to go wrong, we had to get rid of any sign, any trace. So not far from the Tomb Taker hideout, we buried you and we went our separate ways. She took the tome, the mage woman, it was part of the arrangement you had with her. Her contract said she was in the right and that we knew better than to go toe to toe with her and her ilk.”
They all turn to watch your reaction. Eyes on eyes on eyes on eyes.
“So before you woke up in the dirt . . . nothing?”
You can feel the magic, pulling you. Whatever you say, it will be the truth. You’ve no choice about that for the moment. Jester doesn’t seem to be sorry at all.
“There is no before. Whatever happened before is not me. Some asshole got buried in the dirt. Fuck him. I am enjoying what I’m doing; I want nothing to do with that. Anything that came before, I was happy to just leave it be.”
“Do you really not want to know your past?” Nott is hesitant, hands in front of her, nervous.
“I really don’t. Whoever that was came to that end, and I want nothing to do with that. Whatever it was, it doesn’t feel good when I– the moment when something creeps through, I don’t like it. I don’t want anything to do with it. I was happy! I liked the circus! The circus was great!”
She tries again: “I’m sorry to belabor this, but what if you had a good life before this? What if you were famous or rich or had friends or family?”
At this, Yasha tries to intervene, how you love her, ”I think he’s quite an amazing person–“ but you interrupt anyway.
“Okay, here’s the thing that you’re not catching. That wasn’t me. This is mine. I don’t want anything from that other person anymore. That
 person is someone else. It was– I’m in for a penny, might as well. I’m told, although I don’t entirely remember this part, that I only said the word empty over and over again for the first week.”
“Empty. That sounds terrible. I don’t want to remember anything. I don’t want to anybody else’s baggage in my head and I don’t want anybody else’s problems, thoughts, ideas. I like this person, right now is a good person. Is a fine person. Is a happy person. It’s very freeing. It’s the best thing– it’s the thing that happened to me. It’s not the best thing that happened to me, it’s the thing that happened to me. I found peace in building a new person.
What if the past feels that I owe it something?”
Beau pipes in, loud and brash as always. “You don’t owe your past shit. If I don’t feel anything about my past, but I still remember it and I still don’t give a fuck about where I came from then, why should you care about shit that you don’t even remember?”
You scowl right back at her.
“I spent two years before I met you all cajoling people, occasionally ripping them off, occasionally doing a good turn here or there. Never trust the truth. The truth is vicious. The truth thinks you owe it something. None of that. I like my bullshit. It’s good. It’s happy. It makes other people happy."
Nott, again: “But it’s not who you are . . . ?”
“It is exactly who I am. I may be a liar but I’m never a betrayer. I’m honest in my work, and I believe in doing a good turn. I’ve never cheated you out of money. I’ve never robbed from you. I stayed with that circus for two years, I know how people treat each other. It’s important. I don’t care where you’ve been. I don’t care what terrible things any of you have done. You’re here now. This is how it works.
I do my best every town I went to and every town I left, no matter how they treated me– and a lot of them treated me with deep disrespect. I left every town better than I found it.”
You can feel Beau’s glare from across the room. You don’t care. You don’t care at all what she thinks of you.
“Let me make this abundantly clear. My name is Molly. That person is dead and not me. It’s just a person who had this body. They abandoned it.
and so many things suddenly click into place as mineo stills and comes back to the present. he blinks once, twice, and wonders what it must be like. he lets molly's words turn over in his head again with a new understanding - i'm a full of shit hypocrite.
. . . . ]
Oh.
[soft, understanding.]
.... Molly-san. [and then, after a moment, after he really, really thinks about it - ] .... Molly.
I think... whoever you are and whoever you choose to be -
[oh of fucking course it's this one. this particular fucking memory (the event itself, even) loves to pop its head up and ruin a perfectly grand time.
molly looks a little distant for a moment, still just holding that cactus needle. then after a second, he seems to come to, flicking the needle off to a corner of the room and letting his expression fade back into-- well. normal.]
Don't just say that. Lucien could have loved to drill holes in people's heads.
I do not. And if I did, I don't think I'd brag about it.
[a smile right back!
And on that, I think, we can fully agree. Let the past lie in its grave. [Going for one more needle at least, tail swaying, for all appearances perfectly casual.] As for who I am now-- I'll tell you in aligned to Pride for a reason. I like this person. This person is happy. Or. Well, happier, when my friends aren't dying around me. But I enjoy the way I live, I thought I did my good turns well enough to balance the scales, and that's really enough for me.
You can just forget about all that shit in that memory, if you like. That is the story of a dead man. He didn't want this body. I do.
[haha well. if you died and then lost your memories and everyone watched as you became a clown, you might be sort of pissed off too. (anyway, who says he didn't want it back?)]
I agree! And I could say the same for you, you know.
[ . . . . there's just a little bit of a laugh at that, sheepish.]
.... I don't know. I think the person I was before I got here... wasn't that great. Takeru's pretty mean to me, but I actually think that of everyone, he's got a reason to be.
[ . . . ]
I was just the type of person where... I wouldn't blame anybody if they got fed up with me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
... He once openly threatened to make my face less handsome.
no subject
.... Fukuda-san?
no subject
That's right.
no subject
... then I should've punched him harder, is what you're saying.
no subject
[Mineo, your hand!!!]
I'm-- I'm a full of shit hypocrite, you know. I say out one side of my mouth that people's pasts don't matter, the shitty thing they've done. And then out the other I say, well, he did occasionally drill people's heads open. So maybe I do care a little.
no subject
.... if someone's changed, or wants to change, it's easy to want to overlook their past. If they just want to live a normal life, not hurting anybody else. 'cause I think... a lot of the time, people do bad stuff just because they felt like they had to.
But he said he wanted to encourage more holes from the day he got here. Offered to drill a hole in my eye.
So I also wanna say fuck that guy, even if he asked me to keep that shit a secret. How could I?
no subject
True enough. It is simply making a new choice, day by day.
[Though, perhaps a bit of an ominous statement.
The memory is clear and bright, in the way that most terrifying experiences are, when you think them over.
You’ve just descended the stairs to the speakeasy of this Gentleman you’ve heard so much about, when a tabaxi turns to your group. She starts:
“Halt friends, I do not r— Lucien?” Her eyes widen in shock, but you still don’t know who she is, you’re racking your memory, but the name
The name makes you feel ill, all of a sudden, an itch at the back of your skull. There’s no time to consider it.
“It has been too long, two ye–”
“Far too long!”
“Two years!” She laughs, bright, hands still gripping your shoulders on either side, tightly, like an old, old friend. “Look at you! You grew out your hair! And you are covered in tattoos!”
There’s something in her expression that seems confused about this, as her eyes flit to your hands, your neck.
“We’ll catch up, we need a table, we need drinks for me and my compatriots.”
“Of course, you– these are your friends now?” She looks over your group, appraising, but then goes to do as you’ve asked. Drinks and a table.
You now get a better look up at the top, some skulking individuals with long dark cloaks and dark armor, carrying what looks almost like a heavy crossbow, but it’s a long, metal rod. You’ve only seen them in use here and there. A recently emerging technology that has been largely guarded within use of the empire itself.
The second she turns, you give Fjord - a green, half-orcish man, a little pat on the back and hiss a whisper at him.

“I’m sorry, this is my nightmare, please just go with it? It’s Lucien.”
He simply looks a bit baffled in return. The tabaxi returns to the table, reaching her hands out for yours.
“Oh, too long.” She starts quickly, sitting up straighter, then her face suddenly turns apologetic. You see all the faces of your friends, twisted in confusion. They aren’t even trying to hide it.
“Luci— Nonagon. I apologize for using your old name. Nonagon, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Who can keep track these days? Again, a long story.” You manage to croak out. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just looks concerned.
“Nonagon, what happened? We watched you die.”
She looks expectant. As do the rest of them at the table. Jester, Fjord, Nott, Caleb, Beau. All of their eyes are trained on you. They all await your answer.
“I’m sorry, it— I think it all went a bit fuzzy at the end there. Won’t you remind me?”
The tabaxi looks almost stricken, but she recovers. Casting a glance at the others at the table, and then,
“I don’t trust these people, Nonagon, but—
If you trust them, then I trust you. You gave us a speech. We had a fine meal. We all got ready there in the forest. . . She said it would be hard for us to tell whether or not it worked at first, but we went and checked, and you were not breathing. For a good hour, you were not breathing and you had gone cold. We knew then that-- that we had lost you. We checked, and I'm very attuned to vitals, as you know. There was no heartbeat. So we waited longer. The sun rose, and nothing. So, as you told us, if anything were to go wrong, we had to get rid of any sign, any trace. So not far from the Tomb Taker hideout, we buried you and we went our separate ways. She took the tome, the mage woman, it was part of the arrangement you had with her. Her contract said she was in the right and that we knew better than to go toe to toe with her and her ilk.”
They all turn to watch your reaction. Eyes on eyes on eyes on eyes.
The memory fades.
But it fades into another scene.
Fjord looks worried.
“So before you woke up in the dirt . . . nothing?”
You can feel the magic, pulling you. Whatever you say, it will be the truth. You’ve no choice about that for the moment. Jester doesn’t seem to be sorry at all.
“There is no before. Whatever happened before is not me. Some asshole got buried in the dirt. Fuck him. I am enjoying what I’m doing; I want nothing to do with that. Anything that came before, I was happy to just leave it be.”
“Do you really not want to know your past?” Nott is hesitant, hands in front of her, nervous.
“I really don’t. Whoever that was came to that end, and I want nothing to do with that. Whatever it was, it doesn’t feel good when I– the moment when something creeps through, I don’t like it. I don’t want anything to do with it. I was happy! I liked the circus! The circus was great!”
She tries again: “I’m sorry to belabor this, but what if you had a good life before this? What if you were famous or rich or had friends or family?”
At this, Yasha tries to intervene, how you love her, ”I think he’s quite an amazing person–“ but you interrupt anyway.
“Okay, here’s the thing that you’re not catching. That wasn’t me. This is mine. I don’t want anything from that other person anymore. That
 person is someone else. It was– I’m in for a penny, might as well. I’m told, although I don’t entirely remember this part, that I only said the word empty over and over again for the first week.”
Caleb, asks: “M.T.? Or empty?”
“Empty. That sounds terrible. I don’t want to remember anything. I don’t want to anybody else’s baggage in my head and I don’t want anybody else’s problems, thoughts, ideas. I like this person, right now is a good person. Is a fine person. Is a happy person. It’s very freeing. It’s the best thing– it’s the thing that happened to me. It’s not the best thing that happened to me, it’s the thing that happened to me. I found peace in building a new person.
What if the past feels that I owe it something?”
Beau pipes in, loud and brash as always. “You don’t owe your past shit. If I don’t feel anything about my past, but I still remember it and I still don’t give a fuck about where I came from then, why should you care about shit that you don’t even remember?”
You scowl right back at her.
“I spent two years before I met you all cajoling people, occasionally ripping them off, occasionally doing a good turn here or there. Never trust the truth. The truth is vicious. The truth thinks you owe it something. None of that. I like my bullshit. It’s good. It’s happy. It makes other people happy."
Nott, again: “But it’s not who you are . . . ?”
“It is exactly who I am. I may be a liar but I’m never a betrayer. I’m honest in my work, and I believe in doing a good turn. I’ve never cheated you out of money. I’ve never robbed from you. I stayed with that circus for two years, I know how people treat each other. It’s important. I don’t care where you’ve been. I don’t care what terrible things any of you have done. You’re here now. This is how it works.
I do my best every town I went to and every town I left, no matter how they treated me– and a lot of them treated me with deep disrespect. I left every town better than I found it.”
You can feel Beau’s glare from across the room. You don’t care. You don’t care at all what she thinks of you.
“Let me make this abundantly clear. My name is Molly. That person is dead and not me. It’s just a person who had this body. They abandoned it.
it’s mine now.”
And there it ends. ]
no subject
oh.
and so many things suddenly click into place as mineo stills and comes back to the present. he blinks once, twice, and wonders what it must be like. he lets molly's words turn over in his head again with a new understanding - i'm a full of shit hypocrite.
. . . . ]
Oh.
[soft, understanding.]
.... Molly-san. [and then, after a moment, after he really, really thinks about it - ] .... Molly.
I think... whoever you are and whoever you choose to be -
You're good.
no subject
molly looks a little distant for a moment, still just holding that cactus needle. then after a second, he seems to come to, flicking the needle off to a corner of the room and letting his expression fade back into-- well. normal.]
Don't just say that. Lucien could have loved to drill holes in people's heads.
no subject
But you don't, right?
[and he tilts his head thoughtfully]
... It's not really my business what you do with your past - and I... I didn't get to run from mine anymore until it literally caught up to me.
But I think what you choose to do with the time you do have matters.... And what you do with the person you can be now.
no subject
[a smile right back!
And on that, I think, we can fully agree. Let the past lie in its grave. [Going for one more needle at least, tail swaying, for all appearances perfectly casual.] As for who I am now-- I'll tell you in aligned to Pride for a reason. I like this person. This person is happy. Or. Well, happier, when my friends aren't dying around me. But I enjoy the way I live, I thought I did my good turns well enough to balance the scales, and that's really enough for me.
You can just forget about all that shit in that memory, if you like. That is the story of a dead man. He didn't want this body. I do.
no subject
.... I don't know why he wouldn't want it. Everything about you is pretty great.
[it's a confusing thought to him, and he means his words sincerely.]
But... if you're happy then - I'm happy for you too. I don't think that it needs to be more complicated than that.
no subject
I agree! And I could say the same for you, you know.
no subject
.... I don't know. I think the person I was before I got here... wasn't that great. Takeru's pretty mean to me, but I actually think that of everyone, he's got a reason to be.
[ . . . ]
I was just the type of person where... I wouldn't blame anybody if they got fed up with me.